#worst part about this is that it is a rational fear. this can and does happen all the time to people

[unintentionalseductress]

Why does everyone portray Caleb to be 'dark romance, zade meadows' coded? :/

Yeah he's got yandere traits to wanna keep her forever and for himself but he never implies that he'll hurt mc- instead expressing a fierce desire to protect her, so why do ppl write ffs Abt him being manipulative? Making him have 'rough jealous s*x' in which he's spewing a bunch of hurtful things just to manipulate mc to his liking?

I guess it's because of the initial show of possessiveness in his trailer, but literally every love and deepspace guy is possessive so why portray him so darkly?

I like that you portray him more realistically to his character and not so ooc because that's what it feels like most of the time

Hello there anon! I'm glad you think my portrayal of Caleb feels more realistic than some other interpretations. I really don't know where this concept of comparing Caleb to Zade comes from since Zade literally r**es the MC in that book and I simply can't picture Caleb doing that?

This might be a much longer response than you'd expected and I'm sorry, but I've been taking little notes as I went through Caleb's memories, anecdotes, and myth. I feel like most of the people that are portraying him in this sadistic way simply didn't read all the material and just clicked through to get the diamonds.

So let me start by saying, all the other 4 LI's met MC quite recently, meaning they had no say in her life and weren't there when the Chronorift Catastrophe occurred. They met her as an adult, when she'd had time to put herself together and act like a rational grown woman.

Caleb met her at the worst time in their lives as a child until Josephine adopted them. They trauma bonded and after all they've been through together, they're extremely possessive of each other. Not just Caleb, but even the MC as well. She's just as paranoid and possessive about Caleb as well, and this is evidenced in their memories which I will delve into shortly.

But imagine being so close and growing up with this person that you think you know like the back of your own hand. She and Caleb appeared to be quite close up until the explosion. Now MC had to deal with the loss of her second family, and possibly the love of her life. Yes, I said it. The love of her life, because after going through the memories, there's nothing that can be said to change my mind that these two weren't in some kind of relationship before Caleb's death.

Now Caleb is back. MC is wary of him, she's scared to be possessive of him like she was because she knows what it's like to lose him. Caleb has no idea where he stands in her life, and inside it's because he knows he fucked up. He realizes he wants her back, the same woman who was just as obsessed and possessive of him like how he was with her and he has no idea how to fix it.

Caleb imo slides into the tip of the yandere iceberg because of that scene in the main story where he says he'll rebuild their house in Linkon and they can move in together etc. To me, that's the effect of the chip (more to be discussed about that below), and also him literally breaking down because MC said his worst fear to his face; she doesn't need him anymore. How do you recover from having the one person you've loved for most of your life look at you with so much hate and say they don't need you? (reminded me of Sylus a little bit when he's told MC is disgusted by him) For him to be truly yandere, he would have locked her up then and there but he doesn't. He backs off, allows her to get back to her life unharmed, and he keeps himself busy with work. That doesn't look like true yandere behavior to me.

NOW. MYTH EVIDENCE. The part with the chips. The chips seem to exacerbate certain feelings that already exist and take them to the extreme, hence why people who are chipped are very emotionless and almost have a robotic character to them, perhaps to avoid the pain of being emotional. In his myth, we find Caleb actively fights the chip, and it puts so much strain on his body that he falls unconscious or goes into fits. I think that 'yandere' scene is because the chip and his body are at odds with each other. Even MC when she chips herself, finds herself being manipulative of Caleb, trying to make him think of memories that were only half-truths. They're both obsessed with each other, and without the chip, it was fine, but with chip, things get crazy.

Also, I think it's safe to say, Caleb hasn't shown yandere tendencies towards MC in the past pre explosion, beyond telling her to be careful during missions or to let her know when she got hurt. He wasn't upset because she wasn't staying at home, he's upset because she's hiding things from him (like when she lied about getting scratched by a cat pre explosion).

NOW ONTO THE MEMORIES. Because omg, there's so much evidence in the memories that Caleb realizes his limitations in his ability to care for her. In their bond memory Rain's Embrace, when MC is asleep on his shoulder, Caleb literally says something along the lines of "I promise not to be so overprotective of you." He says something similar in Endless Summer and Exclusive Aftertaste, stating he knows his tendency to protect her isn't good for either of them.

And to show how possessive MC was of him. In the memory Longtime Yesterday, we find out Caleb was super popular in college and many girls tried to befriend him by giving him bento boxes. His friends teased him saying "Miss Apple" helped him avoid having to accept the bento boxes. MC literally sulks all the way back to the airport and when Caleb asks her what's wrong she goes, "You have a Miss Apple," like that was a perfectly plausible explanation. Miss Apple turns out to be a hairtie that Caleb took from MC that has apple shaped beads on it and he wears it (presumably on his wrist) all the time, which drove away unwanted attention from other girls. MC was so upset prior to hearing this, and Caleb reassures her that he doesn't want anyone else's attention but her's.

In Borrowed Promise, which occurs when MC is still in high school, Caleb is visiting from college and MC has a fight with a friend who is a girl (important). Caleb notices she's unhappy and takes her to a fair of sorts to cheer her up and she tells him she's worried someone may not like her anymore. Caleb tries to act nonchalant but you can tell he's thinking MC has a boyfriend or a crush and he goes "their loss but oh well you're not for everyone." It's at this point she tells Caleb it's a girl and he's dumbfounded but his relief is evident.

And my favorite, Stage Observer. MC is helping Caleb empty his dorm since he's about to graduate from college and she finds an envelope tucked away in one of his books with cutesy apples on the surface. She mistakenly thinks this is a love letter and then gives a very confused Caleb the cold shoulder for the rest of her visit. Then on his graduation day, she softens and helps fix his tie as he's about to give his valedictorian speech. During this time, she admits she's scared about him finding someone else and he says he worries about her meeting someone else too, but he's happy having just her and grandma in his life. In his speech, Caleb talks about how people go through their whole looking for meaningful connections with people but he's fortunate to have found the one person he knows he can count on. Afterwards, MC runs to him and gives him what I think is their first kiss. And why does she do this? She says, "I kissed you so you can't have a girlfriend now!" Caleb is confused and then she finally admits seeing the envelope. Well guess what? It turns out the envelope actually holds a good luck charm she had sent Caleb but the cover got ruined so Caleb replaced it with the apple envelope. He teases her but the ending implies they now know how they feel for each other and that was the start of a more romantic relationship between them.

So there. MC is just as possessive and obsessed with Caleb as he is with her. He knows that and it's because he's so in tune with these feelings that to him, his actions don't seem out of line, because that's how he expects her to be with him as well. I think like the other boys, his love is limitless, he literally says, "I love you more than you realize" in his myth. He's struggling with mental health and trauma and I think people just want to downplay him for various reasons without delving into the complexity of his character, or the incredible history he has with MC, not from a past life, but in this very real, present one. He was there with her during a time when she didn't know a Xavier, a Rafayel, or a Sylus (maybe Zayne since Caleb mentions him).

There. It feels good to get this out. I will end this by saying, sure, Caleb qualifies as a dark romance, maybe a mild yandere, but definitely, nothing along the lines of Zade because I genuinely don't think he'd want to hurt MC by doing something that could hurt her or violate her consent.

I'm open to more discussion on this. And a reminder about my usual policy; if you have nothing nice to say, scroll on by.

[sirompp]

i am constantly absolutely terrified ill wake up one morning to one million trillion notes and asks all screaming at me cause i fucked up and reblogged something stupid or said something wrong

[chithereader]

losing my cool / aaron hotchner

part 2 to playing it cool !!! hope you like it word count: 1.6k pairing: aaron hotchner x f!reader genre: angst at first, but fluff!!!!!! cw: more sickeningly sweet and soft aaron x reader, mentions of insecurities

The smile on Aaron’s face slowly fades as he takes in your frozen stance. You’re staring at him like he just shot you in the back and worry starts to fill him, “Honey..?” waving his hand in front of your face, hoping it would be enough to break you out of your stupor. 

 “Hello?” Still waving his hand in your face, your eyes darted to his. Your body is in a state of shock– in your mind, there’s a tiny version of you desperately digging her way out of a landslide of disbelief. Waves and waves of doubts and insecurities hindering you from processing what is happening. 

Aaron watches as your mouth moves with barely any sound coming out. Like a fish out of water, you’re scrambling, “W-what?” That’s… a bit too shaky to be good. 

He pauses to think. The doubts are starting to creep up on him. 

Maybe he was too rash with his question. 

Maybe that wasn’t the best way to spring it on you. 

Maybe he should have waited for a better time.

Maybe he should have planned something. 

Maybe she isn’t ready.

Maybe she just doesn’t want to marry me. 

He tries hard to swallow all these dark thoughts, clearing his throat to fake the confidence that’s slowly diminishing, “I said, ‘Marry me.’” After he says those words again he stills, hoping that this time he’ll get an answer. And that.. it would be the answer he so badly wants. 

But time slows down and his heart soon follows as he watches tears start to pool in your eyes. You’re shaking your head– they’re tiny shakes and you look panicked. This isn’t good. Not good at all. 

He really wasn’t expecting this. It never occurred to him you’d say no. Or ..not yes. Aaron’s mind is running a million miles per hour. He doesn’t know what to do, or say. He barely even knows how he feels. And so he defaults to doing the one thing he does best (as a prosecutor at least): object. 

This is triggered by your movement. You move around him, leaving the kitchen towards your living room. Your goal was to sit on the couch, craving some stability as your legs get weaker the more you’re processing what was asked, how you reacted, and how it could be coming across. 

But Aaron’s legs are longer than yours. Before you even reach the couch, he’s holding your arm firmly and gently at the same time. He’s got that furrow in his brows that makes him look stern, but his eyes betray him as you can clearly see the worry in them. 

“Well yes!” he says in disagreement. He doesn’t understand why you haven’t said yes, and as much as he isn’t the kind of man to ever force a lady into anything, a part of him is scared of what he’ll hear if he asks you why you’re not saying yes. 

Though instead of allowing that fear to paralyze him, he allows it to control him. To bear its face because the softer, more rational part of him is hiding. 

You’re avoiding his gaze, crossing your arms– you’re turning away from him. “No- Aaron, you– I don– I ca–” 

You know he’s studying you. You can feel his eyes roaming your face, your neck, your body. He’s taking in everything he can because you’ve given him absolutely nothing so far. And oh how you wish you could voice it all out. 

You just wish it was easy to say I don’t think I’m enough for you. What if you realize one day that I’m not good enough? Are you sure? Are you sure about this? About me? What if you start to want someone smarter? Prettier? Hotter? What if you want someone who is as accomplished or important as you? What if you get bored of me? What if– 

You’re broken out of your thoughts when he suddenly straightens. He looks as if he’s realized something and the next thing you know you’re hit by a gust of wind because he’s running up the stairs. 

Within an instant you run after him. A dozen scenarios are running through your head, the worst being Aaron packing your things because he’s going to ask you to leave. Your heart beats faster as you reach the top of the steps. You peek into your room and see him rummaging through drawers. 

Your worries quiet significantly when you realize they’re his drawers. And just when you’re about to approach him, he turns around meeting you halfway. You’re both illuminated by the sunlight that’s coming through the bedroom window you’re standing in front of. 

He’s still. He’s got a serious look on his face. You take him in, trying to read him but he’s got his profiler look on– unreadable and determined. His voice rattles you, “I’m sorry. That was a mistake.” Firm and devoid of any emotion. 

Oh god.

You’re shaking your head, reaching to hold him by his arms. You start to cry, “Aaron please, that’s not what I–” but… he’s going down on one knee. 

What?

He watched multiple emotions flicker on your face. Defeat, panic, confusion– “It was a mistake. I shouldn’t have said that. I– I planned to do it better than that. I don’t know why I let it slip out, you deserve better than that.” 

Before you can process it, Aaron’s holding out a ring. He’s holding your hand in the other while tears are streaming down both your faces. You have no idea how you heard it but you guess it’s simply a testament to how attuned you are to him when he whispers, “Please, please, please. Will you marry me, honey?” 

Time stops. Literally. You can feel your heart in your chest beating louder, heavier. It’s pounding as if begging to be heard. Begging to let Aaron know that it beats for him and him only. You’re lowering yourself to kneel before him. You want to see his face properly. His eyes. His nose. His lips. This is the man you love. This is the man you want to marry. Your eyes are simply capturing every angle of this moment. 

You’re leveled now. Equals. You grab both his hands in yours and you stare into his brown eyes. You want him to know you mean it, as you nod your head slowly and breathe out, “Yes.” A smile breaks across his face, tears starting to stream again. 

You watch him as he tries to put the ring on your finger, getting it on the first try even if his sight is slightly hindered by his tears of happiness and relief. The sun makes the ring sparkle, catching your attention and you look at it properly for the first time. 

It’s beautiful. Aaron would argue that the stone screams you – grace, loyalty, peace. He catches your eye and the both of you start to smile. You start to giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck while his arms snake around your waist. 

He buries his head in your neck, breathing in your scent while silently thanking the heavens for granting him this. You break apart, startled to hear tiny footsteps nearing. The both of you start to stand up from the floor, straightening yourselves out and wiping the remaining tears staining your faces. 

You both look to the door, waiting for the little boy to show himself. You hear a soft knock right before the door opens slowly, a head peeking in, “Daddy?” 

Aaron goes to the door, opening it more for Jack to come in. The little boy goes straight to you and you pick him up in your arms with ease, resting him on your hip. You have your left hand holding him stable, and even though the little boy’s still groggy with sleep he notices the sparkling addition to your hand. 

You take notice of how his little face lights up in excitement and you have no idea what about it he understands, “I help Daddy buy you that!” His voice is full of pride, genuinely proud that he had played a part in picking. 

You’re confused, not fully understanding what Jack means. Looking to Aaron for an answer, you’re surprised to find him blushing. He looks shy and he’s shrugging at you but you can tell he’s trying hard to play it cool. The smile fighting its way on his face betrays him. 

You decide to take your chance on the adorable kid that is now fiddling with your ring, watching in amazement at how much it’s twinkling in the light. Children are the most honest people you know anyway. Pursing your lips with squinted eyes, you investigate “What do you mean, bubba?” 

“Daddy asked me what ring pop you want, so I asked you when we watched Spiderman and you said your favorite is the green one so I tell Daddy you want the green one!” 

Your heart stutters and the tears start coming in again. Aaron asking Jack for his opinion for your engagement ring. Jack thinking it's a ring pop. Jack asking for your favorite ring pop flavor. Jack being proud that you got the ring you want, pop or not. 

Brought out of your thoughts by Jack wanting to leave your hold, you put him down. You watch as he happily walks out of your room, presumably to go to the kitchen. You look at Aaron again, and just as you’re about to say something about what you just found out, you realize one thing. Spiderman.

You gasp. Covering your mouth in surprise, you slap his arm lightly, “That was our third date!”

Aaron laughs loudly, rushing out of the room before you can throw questions at him or even comments about how insane he is. He couldn’t care less. He was right. 

a/n: just want to say thank you so much for the love and support i've been getting for my hotch fics!! as someone who's new here, it all means so much to me <33 i recently made a masterlist as i plan to write so much more and branch out to other characters i've been perpetually in love with!! leave requests of what you want to read or characters i can write about, i'd love to write for you guys ◡̈ tagging the people who wanted a part 2 for this: @pear-1206 @dedicatedfangirl2001 u guys are so sweet

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Death Wish 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violence/abuse and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Bucky Barnes

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you’re desperate for a way out of your life and you ask a powerful man for help (plus!reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Photo Inspo

You don’t sleep. Most nights after one of your father’s fits, you don’t. You’re not sure if your sisters did either. They don’t look like it. 

There’s a ritual after night like those. You get up in silence and meet in the hall. There is no conversation. You each go about your day and try to forget. The bruises aren’t acknowledged and if you’re expecting company, you know how to cover them up. 

Adrienne sweeps as Kitty clears away any clutter. You go to the kitchen and start breakfast. You work quietly and quickly. You move dishes so they don’t clink and carefully put the pan over the burner so it doesn’t make more than a soft clack. Your father is at his worst when he’s been awakened. 

Kitty drops one of your father’s cigar butts in the bin. You glance over at her as you count the bread slices. 

“Two each, four for daddy,” you mutter.  

He always gets more and if he doesn’t, he’s sure to remind you of where everything comes from. You children are like leeches! Grown enough that you should be out on your own, yet he wouldn’t dare to let you leave. You can’t abandon him after your mother died, what kinda daughter... 

You mix up the eggs and milk, with a touch of cinnamon and a drop of vanilla. All of it is carefully measured and rationed. You’re running low on everything else. French toast is the meal that denotes your overdue for a grocery shop. Whenever it is that your father decides to dole out all that money he brags about. 

Adrienne hangs the broom up in the closet and offers to help. You tell your sisters to sit at the table and wait. You’ll start cooking with your father gets up. He hates cold food. So, you wait in a sombre vigil for that creak in ceiling. 

Your father’s door hits the frame harshly and his feet thump down the hallway. His descent on the stairs is staggered and just as heavy. A wisp of cigarette smoke precedes him into the kitchen. Adrienne and Kitty stand to wish him good morning, you echo them, your skin on fire. 

As you see your father’s haggard scowl, that loathing swells in your chest, but more, that fear. His sleepy eyes scan the room as he offers no responses to the daughters he claims to be both his greatest achievement and his most awful burden.  

As he looks at you, you gulp. Can he see what you did? Does he know? He always knows everything. He always finds something to be mad about. Did he hear you climb out the window? Or back in? Could he smell the night air you let in with you? 

“Coffee,” he snarls. 

Relief washes over you but only so far. You have to hold onto that caution. You can never let your guard down. 

You get him his italian roast as he sits at the table. Adrienne and Kitty sit with him, heads down, hands folded in their laps. You work to get the toast ready. His loud slurps and hacking coughs are the only noise in the tense lull. 

You bring the stack of fried bread and the bottle of table syrup over. You put it in the middle, the place mats already set with plates and cutlery. You father stares expectantly at the food. 

You put four slices on his plate for him. He grabs his fork and stabs two more, claiming them for his pile. You don’t say anything. Those would be yours but you’re not very hungry. You smile at your sisters. 

“Dig in, don’t let it get cold,” you say. 

Your brittle tone crackles as your father grumbles. “No sugar?” he sneers. “Your mother always had that sugar.” 

“Sorry, father, I don’t have any--” 

“And the cheap shit,” he grabs the bottle of syrup. 

“They didn’t have any of the real maple but next time I go--” 

“I need smokes,” he growls. “Add those to the list.” 

You’re hopeful that that means he’ll give you the shopping money, otherwise you’ll be down to the last of the flour for tonight’s noodles. You may even have to cute some black spots off the old tomato in the crisper. 

“Yes, sir,” you answer diligently. “More coffee?” 

He only shoves his mug toward you. He growls at your sisters and they grab their servings. You give them a look over his head. It’s okay, eat. You all take your turns in sacrifice to keep the others going. There’s enough cough; it’s a suppressant. 

The old doorbell chimes as you bring your father his second cup. He grunts and keeps on as he is, cutting into the eggy bread and sopping up the syrup he was just complaining about. You don’t wait for his command. If he has to say, he has to re-teach you. 

You hurry from the kitchen and to the front door. You pull it open, expecting Mr. Cassidy to be offering up his old newspaper. The elderly old man wanders door to door, not wanting it to go to waste. He likes to talk about the baseball scores. 

It’s not him. 

“Mr. Rogers,” you greet the number two, your shock laced into your tone. 

He looks down at you dully. You only recognise his posture and his eyes. His hair is longer and darker than the last time you saw him. And his expression is like stone. The only man who gives him orders sat behind that desk last night. 

“Warren, he here?” He asks brusquely. 

“Eating breakfast, sir. Would you like some coffee?” 

“Don’t drink it,” he sniffs. “Got a job. Get him out here. Now.” 

You would ask him to come in but it’s easier to take orders. You nod and turn around rigidly. You walk away with a tremor in your fingers. It’s unusual to see anyone above a capo at the door, let alone the underboss.

Is it a reminder of what you did? A threat for you not to do it again? 

“Daddy,” you stop just inside the doorway. “There’s someone here--” 

“Tell Carlos to hold his fucking horses,” your father snarls. 

“Daddy, it isn’t...” you nearly choke on your words. You don’t know who to fear more. Your father or the man waiting outside. “It’s Steve Rogers.” 

It’s his turn to gag. He coughs and spits out his mouthful. He gives you a wide-eyed glare and stands. He adjusts his robe and reties it. 

“You better not be fucking with me,” he grits as he approaches you. 

You just shake your head. He shoulders past you so roughly, that your other arm hits the door frame with a crack. It’s your fault that he’s unready to face the boss. It’s your fault that this unexpected guest is waiting for him. Always your fault. 

Kitty and Adrienne look at you with concern. You go to the table and sit. You know better than to listen in. Unless you want your ears boxed in. 

“Hey, you can have some of mine,” Adrienne offers a slice. 

“Not hungry,” you sit and stare at the wall. Your stomach is going wild. What if Barnes sent Rogers because of you? What if he’s telling your father about your betrayal? 

“What do you think he’s doing here?” Kitty whispers. 

You shake your head. It’s not your business, don’t make it. That’s how people get hurt. 

You already went to far...

Finally, the front door snaps shut. Your father’s lumbering steps return to the kitchen and he lights another smoke as he enters. His grin is unsettling. You sit, breath bated, and wait for him to grab a spatula or the broom. He knows. 

“Looks like I'm on my way up, girls,” he proclaims as pats the pocket of his robe. It bulges from within. “Got a job outta town. And a bonus.” He sits and puffs on the cigarette, “go buy some real fucking syrup.” 

He lets the cigarette hang between his lips as he slides out the thick envelope. He counts out several bills and flutters them over the table. You stare in disbelief. Even if you haven’t been given up, this is a clear message; know your fucking place. 

[live-laugh-legolas]

Thanks for your headcannons! How about a sketch where Gandalf, for example, helps fem! reader to cope with anxiety/insomnia and how the rest of the fellowship react to it (but only if it's not difficult for you)

I’ve just focused on the anxiety part of this prompt because I have struggled with anxiety my whole life so I feel more comfortable writing about it

I feel like some of these just turned into me giving advice based on my own experiences so please remember I am a very unqualified unprofessional and I love my therapist and suggest everyone get themselves one (as a little treat, you deserve it 💕)

The Fellowship x reader w/anxiety

Aragorn:

-He is very understanding and patient

-Doesn’t let you be embarrassed about your worries

-If you brush off your worry by asking questions about something similar that feels more “reasonable” to you he will gently call you out

-“what are you actually worried about?”

-Your anxiety might not be rational to others but I feel like anxiety rarely is; it’s still valid no matter what and he makes sure you know this

Legolas:

-He doesn’t fully understand it

-And by that I mean he doesn’t understand why some people’s brains just don’t work quite right

-Why would your brain trigger a fear response when there is no threat? Is that a mortal thing?

-Although he is confused a bit he will never judge you for being anxious

-He doesn’t even really think twice about what your anxiety is about; he just wants to help

-He quickly picks up on the fact that sometimes there isn’t really anything he can do except be there for you

-Awkwardly brings you water

-He will keep you company if you can’t sleep because he doesn’t sleep anyway

Gimli:

-He will tell you that he will fight any thing that worries you

-He kinda takes an approach of “I’m going to be over the top so they can see that it not something worth worrying over”

-This is not a mocking sort of thing; I want to make that clear; he is not going to tell you that there is nothing to worry about, he hopes you will come to that conclusion with his comedic support

-He will also give you pep talks like he gave himself before going into the Paths of the Dead (I think that was what it was called; the cave with the cursed ghosts)

-I love his softer moments and I think he would lean into this and be a teddy bear and a solid rock ya know?

-He suggests drinking ale if you can’t fall asleep but you have to tell him blacking out isn’t a healthy way to fall asleep (personally I don’t like the taste of alcohol but it does make me really sleepy. I am of age though; don’t underage drink even if Gimli offers it to you)

Boromir:

-“well what is the worst thing that will happen if (insert worry here)?”

-He takes the approach of “this is your worry and this is every way we will handle it should it come to fruition”

-I know this might not be a particularly great way to handle anxiety but I will say to myself “ok the worst thing that happens is you die. Welp if you die then at least you won’t be stressed anymore and don’t have to go to work in the morning”

-It has just allowed me to find some peace with things out of my control

-Basically he will help you find things you can control in your life and help you accept the things you can’t

Frodo:

-He is a really calm person in general and he is also super patient

-He will listen to any and every worry you have even if you have repeated the same worried question multiple times

-He will remind you to bring something of comfort with you; like your favorite hoodie; if you are going to do something out of your comfort zone or that might trigger your anxiety

-Sam is prone to anxiety at times and he has learned how to help him get out of his head a bit and he does the same for you

-I think he will just hand you something to fiddle with as a small distraction and to get a little energy out; and if nothing is available he will give you his hand or let you play with his hair

Sam:

-He takes a very hands on approach; and by that I mean he knows your common anxieties and helps you to avoid anything that will bring them on

-Will throw a heavy blanket on you if you start to panic

-He’s a little stressed while trying to calm you down just because he wants you to feel better

-He also has some anxiety so he sympathizes; you guys can reassure each other

-If you take meds he will make sure you take them even if he has to hold you down and pill you like a dog

Merry:

-My parents always told my sister and I that “they will tell us if there is something to worry about”

-Merry does this

-He tries to “train” you like a dog with a treat to come and ask him if you should be worried so he can tell you yes or no

-He obviously won’t do this if you don’t get a laugh out of it; he doesn’t want you to think he is making fun of you

-And he will be honest; if it he doesn’t know he will check it out before confirming if you should be worried about it or not

-He teaches you breathing techniques and grounding exercises

Pippin:

-This hobbit is super empathetic and will pick up on your anxiety really quick

-He’s subtle with his comfort though

-Will make excuses for you both to leave a situation without putting any attention on you

-He can be oblivious at times, but never to your emotions

-Does the “nose boop” or something silly to catch you off guard if you start to panic which can help pull you out of that headspace

Gandalf:

-Will tell you some wise shit about how everything experiences stress and how everything ends up working out

-“You are more than your fears. Don’t let your fear control you”

-I just think about the scene when he is talking to Frodo about wishing the ring didn’t come to him

-He will pass you his pipe because he smokes his troubles away; but how’s that going for ya Gandalf? *insert scene of him choking on the smoke but he keeps going despite Pippin looking like he thinks he will die any second*

———————————————————————

I have realized I talk a lot about myself and reference my parents and experiences when I’m writing these. Do y’all find that weird or annoying to read? I have found it sometimes is the easiest way to explain where the headcanon idea came from. But I also don’t want to bore anyone with my wordy explanations

[sameschmidtdiffname]

hai i have a request for a mike fic, so i was thinking of a comfort/hurt type of thing and maybe like a “i didn’t know where else to go” kind of trope where reader shows up to his house in the middle of the night distressed and he comforts her

To All I Think is Safe

Mike Schmidt x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: After a family dinner gone awry, something guides you somewhere where your mind can safely wander in better memories than the ones you're making right now.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific pronouns for Reader, mentions of arguments, heavy disassociation, heavy nosebleeding, flashbacks, first kiss, date, fear of heights, fair date, author is fucking trying, fluff.

Notes: I think my bosses want me dead. Anyway, here's Wonderwall.

                     ▪︎◇{¤♧■♧¤}◇▪︎

I can handle family. Who can't handle family?

The part of me knocking on the green door illuminated only by the orange streetlight a few yards away, trying to peak through one of the three window slots on the door to see if there's any sign of life inside of the modest house, praying that there is out of selfish desperation. That's who.

I hadn't called. Hadn't given notice. I'd been too caught up in the emotions of myself to do so, worried I'd be turned away if I had. The thought makes me feel ill now, my mind chastising me for such a self interested act.

For a moment I almost turn to leave, sure that no one is awake and that I've simply wasted the gas in the trip over here. But at the loud clunk of the door unlocking, I feel my heart jump and sink simultaneously as Mike peaks his head through the crack in the door, bags under his eyes and hair tossled from sleep.

"Hey," he croaked, blinking away the sleep as his tired face managed a look of surprise.

"Hey," I said softly, trying not to let my voice crack. But it does. "Is this a bad time?"

I don't know what gives my state away. Maybe it's how swollen my face is, puffy and burning from the overexposure to salt water. I can already feel the skin on my eyes balloning in a disastrously unattractive manner. Maybe it's the snot that's still on my face even after trying desperately to wipe it away, my problem being I'd run out of napkins in my car some time ago and hadn't replaced them, so I'd been resorted to just trying my best to sniff back the snot or use the arm of my jacket, which is now soaked and covered by my hand to conceal it, to wipe it away. God, it's fucking sticky and I feel gross. I don't understand why the snot won't just stop fucking flowing.

"Shit, you're bleeding," Mike says. His eyes widen as he steps forward, instantly dragging me into the house, down the hall and into the bathroom.

Oh. That's why my head hurts.

The white light is blinding and overstimulating in the small, disorganized room. One glance in the mirror and I can see the bottom half of my face is grossly smeared in the snot-blood combo running from my nose, my eyes bloodshot and more dry than a British comedy from all of the tears. I stare at myself for a moment, hardly even realizing Mike is yanking my coat off of me, stroking my hair and trying to ask me questions about what happened. I can hear his voice but the words are muffled, and even though my eyes are staring at him now, I don't know when I turned to face him or what I'm really looking at. I'm just staring at anything. My mother used to call it 'staring off into space.' It's actually a disassociation episode. The kind that can make me lose myself in other thoughts, making me distant from reality where I assume the worst of things.

I'm rational enough to know not to lean into him. If I throw myself into his arms I'll smear my shit everywhere and then he'll be grossed out and will have to play nice after I interrupted his sleep to beg for comfort that should come easily enough from my aforementioned mother, but clearly I'm adult enough now that I don't need coddling and I shouldn't have driven here and-

Am I saying this out loud? Because my mouth is moving and I'm trying to say something but I'll be honest, my head is in disarray and Mike looks worried. Me too, buddy. Me too.

My hands try to help his find a wash cloth in his closet, trying to be useful, but they're covered in snot and blood too and it's dried and horrid looking and I just feel like some sticky toddler that's wailing over nothing because that's what I'm doing, and I'm trying not to dissolve into a new wave of tears because my eyes really, really hurt and I'm gonna end up hiccuping and sobbing and I shouldn't even be here right now.

Mike's hands wrap around mine and he's trying to pull me somewhere. But he won't get out of my way, tugging me forward and blocking me like it's some game. Then I realize it's him he's trying to drag me to, and I try to push away, not wanting to get him dirty or let him fulfill some duty of pity just because he feels obligated seeing me in such a state. He's touching my hair and there's snot in that too and this is all just entirely too much, making me burst out sobbing once more as I try to hide my face in my arm, feeling all too vulnerable and alone while in a house that's not mine in any way, shape or form. But his arms feel nice around me, and he's guiding me to the bathtub and helping me lay down inside of it. When he pulls away I'm paranoid for a second that he'll turn the shower head on and wash me like a drunk, especially when he reaches for the shower handles. He presses a clean, white cloth to the spout and let's just a little bit of water out to wet the washcloth before turning the water off and coming closer to me, dabbing and wiping gently at the drying mixture on my face.

There's a long while of silence. Him carefully washing me, his touch gentle and caring as I feel the wet glumps with dried crusts fade away. The pounding in my head begins to dull to an overwhelming ache, making me shut my eyes as I softly groan. When I think he's done I dare peaking at him from under my lashes, trying to read his mind. His brows are furrowed, probably in disgust. Lips pressed together as he sits on the balls of his heels,, watching me carefully. Most likely he'll let me sleep on the couch and then kick me out in the morning. I'll be lucky if I get the "We should see other people" speech. I wouldn't blame him if my calls just couldn't connect when I get home, leaving me to wonder what could've been if I hadn't been so selfish.

I don't even know the time for fucks sake.

"I'm not crazy," I say in this broken voice that only a crazy person would have.

I don't know what's funny, but he's laughing. His hand reaches out to stroke my cheek, and he feels so warm. His callouses have this smooth texture to them. Working hands. It's the first thing I noticed when we held hands the first time. It was at some carnival thing, and Abby was with us. It was sweet under those neon lights. The rides always look so cheap, but there's something enchanting in that. It's what I focus on now as my mind finally begins to relax, allowing me the guilty pleasure of mentally slipping away into an actual memory instead of just static filling my mind and drowning everything else out unpleasantly.

"I know," Mike says softly, his thumb stroking the raw skin under my eye as he watches me with a gentle smile, one probably meant to hide his contempt. "You're okay."

The rides had these giant speakers built into them. And the workers would play songs from them, loud enough it was blaring in your ear on the ride but it was a reasonable volume when you were just walking around on the wet, overgrown and matted grass that curls around the giant cables Mike and I both had to be irritating about reminding Abby not to trip on, both of us looking down to watch for them more than looking at anything else.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Mike asks gently. He's always so gentle. Well, not always.

"Ope, someone lost their drink," I said to Mike, pointing at a spilled lemonade on the dirt path that had been created by decades of the county fair foot-traffic.

"Five second rule," Mike said, his voice low and teasing in my ear, making me burst out laughing.

"That's fucking disgusting!" I exclaimed, looking at him incredulously. A mother passing by snapped 'hey!' At me, tugging her child harshly behind her as she glared. I blushed, covering my mouth with my hand at the outburst, which made Mike laugh just as hard as I just had.

I suppose I have to talk about it. I can't really just not show up at his doorstep in the middle of the night and not just explain myself. But my teeth feel cemented together, my throat full of glue that halts the words I could use to inform him of why I look like this. And my eyes are too tired to make contact with his. So I just melt into his hand, pressing it between my cheek and my shoulder. And he doesn't press any more.

"I always liked the rides that made me feel like I was flying," Mike said as we watched Abby spin round and round with some girl she often spent her days with. Lisa Something.

"Yeah?" I asked, turning to look at him, taking a drink from the giant lemonade that was not at all real lemonade and was instead some horrid sugar that's taking five years off of our lives mixed with whatever makes the color of the drink the same as construction workers glow-in-the-dark vests that I'm sure will have like, ten different studies on how it gives you some cardiovascular disorder from overexposure in twenty years. There's a waxy ring of chapstick around my straw, so it's easy to tell which one to drink from. Mike had gotten just the one giant drink and two straws, shoving them in with a smooth smile as he handed me the already sweaty, Pepsi branded cup to hold while we walked. I think he didn't know that I noticed the twelve year old boy who'd been five people ahead of us in line do the same thing with his date earlier, but it was a cute gesture nonetheless.

"Yeah. I don't know why, it just felt comforting. Wind fuckin' up my hair and shit," he said, hands shoved in his jean pockets as he watched the two girls, who are sticking their tongues out at us as they whirl by.

"What, like you were flying away from your problems?" I ask, genuinely guessing.

"Nah, I don't really think of it like that. Just felt like I was somewhere else for a bit. Could close my eyes and the only anxiety I felt was whether or not Genie there was gonna fucken drop me," he said, glancing at me and smirking as he points at the giant airbrushed painting of Genie from Aladdin on the side of the ride. That's definitely not licensed.

"Have you eaten?" Mike asks softly, coming a little closer to me as his other hand cups my opposite cheek. At that I shake my head, pressing my lips together.

"It was all just some giant fiasco," I said as I laughed while trying to aim my basketball for the hoop several feet in front of me. Mike's made like five goals in a row and is proudly holding a very cheap rainbow dolphin with lopsided eyes for me while he watches me struggle just to get one.

"What, your prom date?" He teased, leaning closer to my ear as I take a shot. And miss. Again. "Or this?"

I turned to him, glaring and trying to suppress my amused smile.

"The date was fine, my hair was horrid," I said, turning away from the man working the booth who was trying to convince me to try again.

"I always like your hair," Mike says softly, one hand stroking my hair as he presses his forehead against mine. God, why won't he just tear into me already? The anticipation is fucking killing me.

I open my mouth to respond, but I just hiccup instead. At that he gently helps me up, guiding me out of the bathroom and leading me into the kitchen where he promises a leftover bowl of chicken noodle soup has my name written all over it in the fridge.

There's a thousand insecure questions I want to ask right now. Does he hate me? Will he hate me? Is this just a prelude to an awful breakup? But instead I just cling to my thoughts quietly, not wanting an answer to anything. Reality fading in and out of focus.

The kitchen is quiet as he moves about, dishing out the leftovers and putting them in the cheap, stained microwave he'd had to buy when Abby blew up the last one with a pitiful attempt at making her own rice Krispy treats. He leans against the counter as we wait for the rattling machine to finish, neither of us really saying anything as my leg bounces wildly in anxiety.

"Are you okay?" Mike asks softly after a moment, tilting his head. His arms are crossed in front of him, which is normal for Mike but it still makes me on edge.

I try again to speak, but I can't. It feels like I'll just blow up again if I do. So I just shrug instead, not wanting to talk about the lengthy screaming match I'd managed to find myself in earlier that night.

The microwave beeps loudly, causing us both to start, Mike pulling the door open quickly to shut it up and take out the now hot bowl, hissing under his breath at himself for not grabbing a towel as he quickly moves to set it down in front of me. If I'd been in a better state I would've laughed at the admittedly comical sight, but I felt like I'd done enough at his expense for one night.

Once situated, there's long while of silence. No other noise except for my spoon clinking against my bowl as I eat quietly, Mike watching me across the glass table as he takes a few drinks from his clear glass of water, head on his large hand. A clock ticks in the other room, the hour later than I'd wanted to be when I showed up unannounced.

"I'm sorry," I finally say in a soft voice, my spoon scraping soundlessly against the maroon bowl. "I just didn't know where else to go."

He smiles softly at that, his hand reaching across the table for mine. The touch meant to be comforting instead sends me back into my thoughts, my body stiffening as my mind tries to distract me from my anxiety and doubt.

Our hands had been brushing against each other for hours as we'd walked. Both of us were too nervous to take the others, which is a bit silly since we were grown adults. But really we hadn't had any serious discussions yet. We were still in the dinners and texting phase, dancing around any serious 'what is this' talks until we felt like we would both have similar answers ready for any questions. The night had settled in solidly now, the fairgrounds only alive by the bright lights of the rides.

The grazing, however, had come to an end when the ferris wheel started clicking towards what felt like my untimely demise.

I fucking hate ferris wheels, fun fact.

I don't think Mike particularly likes them either, based off of how stiff his body was next to mine, his eyes trained dead ahead, his jaw clenched. I think he might break a tooth. Or maybe I'm projecting.

Abby and Lisa had been insistent on riding it, and had been even more insistent that Mike and I needed to ride something with them before the night was over. And even though we both looked at the thing with a pit in our stomach, neither of us felt ridiculous about being grown adults on that ride as opposed to all the others flooded with teens and kids dodging in and out, stomping in puddles of who knows what on their way to the next ride. So we gritted our teeth, handed over our tickets and got into the cart right behind Abby and Lisa, who wouldn't stop looking back at us with amused eyes, whispering into each other's each as they covered their mouths.

"My dad worked as a carnie," I blurted out as we hung mid air, halfway up the ride while they still loaded people in. "These things are fucken sturdy."

Mike didn't look at me. Or at least he didn't turn his head. I didn't either. His silence makes my anxiety a bit worse, wondering if my random fact had somehow irritated him, or if there was something I was supposed to do that I wasn't picking up on.

"... I'm gonna die to Creed," he finally said between his gritted teeth.

My brows furrow for a moment before I realize what song is playing, and then I'm laughing. Maybe a little too much, but that's the anxiety. Abby and Lisa are darting their heads around to look down at us, trying to see what's set me off, and Creed's taking One Last Breath on the blaring radio somewhere around us as they have been for the past however many months with the top song.

"I'm never gonna escape this, they play this way too much at work," I laughed. And he started laughing too, both of us white knuckled as we gripped the bar in front of us. Then we move up again, and the cart is slightly rocking, making me feel ill.

"That's okay," Mike says softly, his thumb trailing across my knuckles as I stare down at our hands. "I was missing you, anyways."

I look up at him, trying to read his expression, my head still trying to balance my focuses. There's concern in his eyes, obvious as he realizes how awful this particular episode is.

Abby is yelling something at us, but my head is buzzing with too much anxiety to hear her.

"Go away!" Mike yells back at her, waving his hand in irritation, then stopping as he realizes he's rocking the cart. He looked back at me anxiously, trying to smile. It just looked like he'd been shot instead. "Sisters," he said shyly.

"What's she saying?" I asked him, leaning closer to hear him better over the heavy guitar.

"Nothing," he insisted. "She's just being twelve."

I go to look up, only to feel his hand on top of mine, warm and strong as he grips it a little too hard for the first time, but I think that's out of anxiety too. No matter what, the first move makes me more dizzy.

"Your dad worked fairs?" He asked anxiously, obviously trying to change the subject.

"I should've called first," I say softly, leaning onto the table and pushing the empty bowl away from me as I lay on top of my arm.

"It's okay," he reminds me in a soft voice, rising from his chair while still holding my hand. "You're home now."

"Well, I'm at your home now," I hiccup into my arm. His arms wrap around me, guiding me up and into his warm embrace that I'd been longing for for what felt like hours.

"I thought you said you liked flying!" I laughed, terrified.

"Flying! This is sitting still while dangling above death!" Mike clarified. The carts began clicking again, and we now had an easier view of the two girls in front of us, making him gasp and yell out Abby's full name in scolding.

I see why he didn't want me to look up. Abby and Lisa are miming a make-out session while they giggle obnoxiously.

"Oh my God, I'm gonna fucking ground her," he groaned, covering his forehead with his other hand. His face is completely red, his body so stiff it feels like I could break off his arm with barely any pressure, and my own heart is slamming so hard against my chest I think it's visible.

One more click and we'll be at the top. Great.

He's looking down at me, I think he's trying to get me to refocus but I just can't. I've done my duties for the night, and now I'm stuck in this emotional pit of hatred and numbness as my mind tries to remind me of a better time that just makes me feel worse because Mike is speaking again and I just can't hear him.

"She's being a wingman. Really, she's just spotting a good opportunity," I rambled in Abby's defense. Mike glanced at me, then at the tweens in front of us.

"Yeah?" He asked, his voice nerve wracked.

"Oh yeah. Every little sister does it. I mean, it's partially based in torture, but overall she's trying to help," I said quickly, my breath shortening.

"Are you okay?" He asked, looking just as pale as me.

"I fucking hate heights, please distract me," I pleaded quickly, only to immediately feel his teeth click loudly against mine as he kissed me, his lips sweet with sugar and hands nearly breaking mine from his tight grip, Abby and Lisa whooping obnoxiously in front of us as we freeze in the moment. It's clumsy, certainly. And it's obvious on both ends how long it's been since either of us have done this. But it's an effective method, my mind beginning to refocus on the taste of the borderline awful lemonade fresh on his breath, his shaking hand moving from the bar to cup my cheek cold from the wind. My eyes widen in surprise, the music swelling around us and the lights somehow brighter as we rock above the rest of the fair in the squeaking booth.

When he pulls away, there's a soft smile on his face, his tongue quickly darting out to taste his own lips.

"... I like your chapstick," he said shyly, neither of us focused on the fact that we're now moving steadily in the ride, fully tuned in to the other.

"Thanks," I said softly, cheeks burning against his touch. "Strawberry."

There's a long second of nothing, and I'm vaguely aware of Abby and Lisa screaming "Can You Feel the Love Tonight?" And someone is trying to shush them. I know it's not Mike because he's staring at me like an idiot. Completely satisfied and dramatically more calm as he leans in for another kiss, this time pulling me fully into his embrace.

"You're home," Mike repeats against my lips, then moving to trail along my cheeks, his hands carefully cupping my face once more as his touch grounds me back in reality. "I'll be here when your mind gets back."

As my own hands graze along his soft, cotton shirt, I feel my pulse begin to relax. Doubt beginning to creep away as his lips trail along my jaw, slowly working to my neck. It's not a demanding touch. It's just comfort. And he'll keep doing this until I return to him like I always do, and then he'll keep doing it until we both fall asleep in a tight embrace under a dozen blankets, half of which will be gone by morning as we wake in a pool of sweat across the bed from each other, only to seek the other out again in wakefulness. And there will be answers for his questions, and I'll be fine.

I'm home now.

                             ¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

I FINALLY FUCKING PUBLISHED SOMETHING. HOLY FUCK I'M OVERWORKED. (Fun fact, this was fucking hard because I was actively disassociating while writing the whole thing. Reader just like me frfr)

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 @jhutchissupercool. Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

               •▪︎Masterlist▪︎•

[altades]

Vashwood rant

I can't sleep so why not analyze vashwood in the middle of the night

Now, this analysis is mostly of the manga, with maybe small takes from 98 and tristamp

To start let's look at the boys from their respective beginnings

Vash is so cruelly mischaracterized as a child, and it might be a little bit of trismaps fault, even though i do love it, or maybe people are just putting characters into boxes without really thinking about it but Vash is so not soft-shy-nice little baby brother. The whole thing with him being younger is so insane to me, i get why if Nai was born like 10 minutes earlier he would make it his whole personality (very sibling thing to do) but it's just so stupid. No, they have 0 age difference and it doesn't affect their dynamic cuz the are literally twins for the love of god. And, really, when you look at the manga as kids Nai was the emotional one! And he still is!

Nai is plagued by fear and anger and resentment and those emotions are what drive his every decision. Vash, on the other hand, is much more in control of his feelings and doesn't show them as much. That is to say that pre-tesla nai is the one worried about their relationship with humans, about their future, he's the one crying after talking to Conrad (what a sweet child he was) while Vash seemes much less scared.

And when they find out about Tesla Nai is the one who faints - he’s the more reactive one, the emotional one. And that small difference is what sets their paths so differently. Because Vash actually gets a chance to talk to Rem and figure things out.And that talk is so very important because it makes Rem, who already was everything to Vash, even more important. 

Now, I want us all to think about how terrified Vash was after seeing Tesla cuz he probably thought his own mother was going to dissect him and his brother. But then she saves him when he tries to end his own life, proving that no she’s not gonna kill him, because she, as every human, has the capability to learn from her mistakes and make better choices. (too bad Nai didn’t get that lesson lol)

And then we get to the big bad things. (it’s genocide) But the important part from that whole ordeal is Rem’s sacrifice. Because, listen, I love stories where humanity is shown to be capable of change and forgiveness is a virtue and love and pussy and all that but oh man can it be so so unrealistic and a little bit insane to watch (su im looking at u (i love su but oh boy that is not how the world works unfortunately)) but Trimax manages to make it work so well. I believe that’s cuz Vash is a very kind and loving man but is also completely out of his mind and has horrendous mommy issues. At least half the reason he doesn’t kill people is because Rem has died to save them, and killing them would make it all be for nothing. If he kills these people or if he lets them die would that mean that Rem died for nothing? Did she sacrifice her life to save these people only for her own son to end their lives? AND you know I’m right cuz he literally says it in the manga but also BECAUSE HE DOES THE SAME FOR WOLFWOOD (also he did kill Nai when he had the chance but we don’t have time to unpack that)

All of that is A LOT and very complicated (i love Vash he’s so well written he’s my perfect little meow meow) now let's talk about Wolfwoooooooooood /twirls hair/

WW is much easier to understand and analyze cuz he is, just a guy,, WW is just a normal person who gets insanely unlucky and gets in THE WORST possible situations (If he ever played DND he would roll straight 1s). That is to say that his story is sort of a way to show how much life in the badlands sucks, but also that there are good things even in the worst places (the orphanage) And WW reacts to situations in the most rational way possible way - he kills to survive. he doesn’t want to but he doesn’t get a say in it. If he could chose he would just live with his family and friend and do whatever. And that, him being so normal in such a violent and bloody world is what makes him suffer all the time. His inner moral compass is screaming at him what a terrible person he is and he promptly ignores it.

That is until that moral compass manifests itself in the form of a tall, blond and handsome stranger that he’s supposed to lead to his death. The stranger who turns out to be the most compassionate and kind man WW’s has ever seen. Who he’s supposed to kill. It’s like finding an oasis in the desert and being forced to burn it to the ground. And WW doesn’t want to do that, and he refuses to believe that the oasis is not a mirage so he tries to get Vash to kill someone, even if it’s WW himself. (It doesn’t work.)

As we all know WW changes his mind because of Vash’s influence. And he dies for it. Because even though Vash’s beliefs are born of human virtues, no man is made to walk his path, for he is not human and any mortal who tries to follow an angel to the skies is doomed to crash. WHAT YOU DON’T EXPECT IS THAT THAT MAN WILL BRING THE ANGEL DOWN WITH HIM

There is this line I wrote for an art i’m planning to make and if you’ve read this far you deserve a lil spoiler - “have you found absolution in bringing an angel to his knees?” and it captures perfectly what i'm thinking. And also Vash spends so much time trying to be closer to people but I think him killing Legato might’ve been the most human thing he’s ever done. Cuz it’s is so beautiful in the way he does it for the memory of the person he loved and yet so ugly in it’s cruelty.

I’ve said this before but most of the time when there is a human/ some immortal powerful creature relationship I don’t think the human is that special but WW HE SO IS. Maybe it’s the way that he’s just as deep in the nuclear bombs with personality business as Vash is, being one of said nuclear bombs, but still remains a normal person with relatively good morals that he can anchor Vash to a sort of normality that he doesn’t get often. Like what other guy would get hunted by all sorts of freaks with you, get in trouble all the time, get shot and etc and etc and then go for a drink with you like it’s a normal wednesday? Wolfwood. Or maybe it's that WW learns of every worst part of Vash, he sees him be on the brink of losing himself, he knows Vash has actually caused the deaths of hundreds of thousands of people and ALMOST did it again after Julai, and still stays with him? He sees Vash become something that is not human at all and still stay? Idk MAYBE IT’S ALL OF THAT but WW is just so important and so down bad but we all know that already so i’m not gonna add to that

Anyways, I got this all out of my system gn

[itsabouttimex2]

ooo if your not busy maybe Mei or Azure a gn! Reader who’s a descendant of the lady bone demon but said friend tries to hide that fact from them

(Thank you for sending such an interesting request! I ended up liking this scenario so much that I wrote out a few characters for it!)

Descendant of the Lady Bone Demon: Part One

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three)

Maybe they should’ve seen this coming. Maybe there were a few warning signs they didn’t pick up on. Looking back on it now, it’s pretty obvious, isn’t it? All those little things should’ve added up a long time ago.

The way the room grew silent and tense when you walked in, no matter how how exuberant it had been prior. How you manage to sneak up on everyone without even trying, as though you had no presence. The wide berth that strangers give you, even though they can’t explain why. That last one had been particularly strange for your friends. They hadn’t understood why people would treat you so coldly, not back then.

They understand now.

Mei Dragon thinks of you as one of her best friends, right alongside MK. Even in childhood were the two of you close, your company providing a brief break from her parents expectations and the crushing weight of living up to her family name. She grows up to think of you as a sibling, really. She’s a ride or die, rise to the challenge, thrill junkie sort of girl. And above all else, she’s fiercely loyal to her friends.

So Mei doesn’t believe a word that LBD has to say. She doesn’t care about destiny, about fate, about these so-called “invisible strings that guide us all through life”.

She lives her life as she pleases, doing what makes her and her friends happy! And she’s not gonna listen to a word that some wannabe world-destroyer has to say about it!

Until the Lady Bone Demon mentions you.

“Y/N bears my very own blood, thin though it has grown. In time, they will follow the very same path I have, to cleanse this world of pain and suffering.”

Now she’s listening. Her control over the Samadhi Fire slips, scorching a ring of death into the earth around her. The heat alone wilts the any flora that was spared outright combustion. “How…” The fire flickers, fizzles.

And then promptly reignites, blazing hotter than ever before. Immediately, the Lady Bone Demon cringes away from Mei’s sweltering power as oppressive heat waves bear down on her. She can only watch in fear and awe as the Samadhi Fire grows hotter and brighter, fueled by rage.

“How DARE you say that about my friend! Y/N would never do anything like that!” A blazing arc of black and red fire slices into the blue crystal formations created by the demon, melting them into sizzling puddles. Her anger builds with each lash of multicolored fire, reducing each and every spiked crystal around her to a mess of glowing goo.

That anger doesn’t fade even after the fight is over, not even after she gets to see the Lady Bone Demon shred apart and drift away. It’s cathartic to watch, but doesn’t make her any less angry about what she heard.

No, that anger only fades once she has you in her arms, hugging you as tightly to herself as possible. You don’t know about your lineage. No one else does either. Just Mei. Which leaves her with the worst dilemma of her life.

Does she tell you? Does she tell anyone?

She doesn’t want to be like Sun Wukong, hiding important information from even the people who would be affected by it the most. She was a victim of that, and it had hurt. She doesn’t want to hurt you. That’s the last thing she wants. But she also doesn’t want to cast any doubt on you, doesn’t want anyone to think you might end up a destructive foe that would one day need to be struck down.

The fear of losing you somehow outweighs the fear of you being angry at her for withholding information from you.

So she keeps quiet.

Mei rationalizes her silence on the matter by telling herself that she’ll tell you later. Yes, everything will work out, she’s sure of it! She’ll just… wait. Just a little bit. When everything calms down and everyone starts to move on from this disaster, she’ll speak up. Once everyone is in a better, happier mood, they’ll definitely be more receptive to the bad news, right? So she isn’t doing anything wrong. She isn’t acting like the Monkey King. She’s… just keeping you safe.

And she really hopes you won’t hate her for it.

———————————————————————

Tang has long pondered your place in this little group. It’s not that he doesn’t like having you here, nothing of the sort! Really, he sees you as family, the same way he sees everyone else in this ragtag group of misfits.

But you stick out like a sore thumb. Everyone else has a direct tie to the original pilgrims who once undertook a legendary journey to retrieve sacred texts.

Tang Sanzang for Tang. Zhu Baije for Pigsy. Sha Wujing for Sandy. Ao Lie for Mei. Sun Wukong for MK. Everyone had someone who their skills, appearance, or even personality harkened back to.

Everyone except for you. Tang had made several guesses before, wondering if there was someone you yourself were standing in the place of. But no one truly seems to fit. Rather than distancing himself from you over this disparity, he makes an effort to grow closer. “It must be lonely”, he reasons to himself, “being the odd man out.” He’s struggled with his own insecurities of being useless or weak, so he can relate to you on a personal level. After making that connection between the two of you, he starts to look out for you, trying to help guide you as you grow.

Tang probably sees himself as your father figure, just the way he sees himself as MK’s.

But, since you don’t have the support system that MK has, he tries to take a more involved role in your life. He’ll sit down with you to chat about any troubles or struggles you have, offering you a kind ear and a welcoming shoulder. And if you ever are struggling with something so bad that it breaks you down and leaves you in tears, he happily takes you into his arms and stays with you through the meltdown. If you fall asleep in his embrace after wearing yourself out, he enjoys it all the more.

He cherishes moments like that, actually.

Sure, he’s sympathetic to your feelings of loneliness and isolation. It’s true that he wants you to be happy. Sometimes he hates the world for hurting you the way it has.

But he loves that you trust him enough to break down in front of him, that you trust him to console and protect you in your weakest moments.

Even at a moment like this, where one of the greatest threats to humanity is bearing down on the two of you. For once, he doesn’t hide or cower. Not when your life is on the life. His golden shield encapsulates both of you, a fierce glare painting his face as he holds you close. You breath raggedly against his shoulder, barely able to support yourself. You had been wounded in the fight, nearly passing out after taking several blows for him and the others. Now, he holds you close, standing tall as you lean on him for support. He watches as the Lady Bone Demon throws attack after attack at the two of you, each blast of crystal and bone shattering and fading against his aureate shield.

The ancient demon glares down at him, a sneer curling her face. “You would fight your destiny? The great monk, Tang Sanzang-”

“I don’t care! Even if I am his reincarnation or his descendant… the choices I make are mine and mine alone! And I will always choose to protect my friends!”

“Even Y/N? Even the very one who bears my blood within them? Are you truly willing to risk saving them now, that they might follow my ways later?”

All the little pieces click into place for him. The mystery he had pondered the most was finally solved, and now he had to live with learning the answer.

“That- that doesn’t matter! Y/N is a person all their own, who will make their own decisions! And I trust them to stay by our side and fight for good! I won’t let you corrupt them!”

And he doesn’t. His resplendent barrier holds fast, shining brightly until all that is left of the demon has been scattered to the wind. He holds you gently, mustering the strength to carry you on his when everyone makes the trip back to Pigsy’s noodle shop. Someone like Sandy or Wukong would definitely better suited to the physical labor he was performing, but Tang couldn’t bear to separate himself from you yet.

Nor is he willing to let go once everyone has taken a seat. He props you up against himself, rubbing your back to keep you awake. “The kids eat first,” Pigsy says, carrying three hearty bowls of noodles. MK, then Mei, then you. Once all of you have your noodles, the chef goes back to the kitchen to start on another batch. Tang holds the bowl and the chopsticks, lifting the noodles to your mouth. Occasionally, he tips the bowl to your mouth so you can sip at the nourishing broth. On any other day, he would’ve swiped a few bites for himself while feeding you. Now, you’re all he can think of. He feeds you bite by bite, then guides you to lay your head in his lap once you’ve finished.

“Hey, Tang.” Pigsy peers down at him, another bowl of noodles in his hands. He passes it to Tang. “What was that demon lady saying to ya anyways?”

Tang looks down at you, watching your chest rise and fall, looking more at peace than ever before. He can’t tell you. Not here. Not now. Maybe not ever. But he and Pigsy can both keep secrets, and more than that, you’ll have two targets to split your anger between, keeping Tang from catching the brunt of it if you ever do find out. So he asks:

“Do you think you can keep a secret, Pigsy?”

Red Son

He doesn’t know why he likes you. By all means, you’re just another peasant, another mortal working at the same noodle store that his arch-rival is. But there’s something different about you. Maybe it’s the way you never seem to flinch or cringe or even cower. Maybe it’s the cool head you keep. Maybe it’s the wide-eyed awe you stare at his creations with.

Even after you had been kidnapped.

“I thinks that it was very clever of you,” you softly admit, not fighting against your bonds. “The way you used the tri-toothed 1x2 plates. I don’t see many people use those.”

He shouldn’t be happy to hear you say that. He should scoff and huff and strike down your praise like it’s meaningless drivel. But it’s not. Not to him. He’s been waiting to hear something like that for a long time, actually. Now, if it only it had been from the mouth of his father…

He shakes himself from those thoughts. “Not that a PEASANT like you could ever comprehend just how truly clever my work is! In fact, the legs of this machine are held in place by a truly unique-” “Technic angular wheel,” you finish for him. “It was a smart choice. I bet finding one that could evenly bear the weight of four legs at once wasn’t easy.”

No… no, it hadn’t been. In fact, it had been very hard to source that component. But here you were… acknowledging him. Praising him. Giving weight to his accomplishments by recognizing them. Somewhere deep inside, he’s a little touched to have his efforts commended.

Not that your kindness inspires him to release you. The only thing that frees you is MK and Mei coming in and storming through, knocking him over the head and escaping with you in their clutch.

Still, he doesn’t… hate you, at least. Or maybe, he just hates you less now. It’s a surprisingly good start.

A start that you continue to build off of throughout your repeated interactions, to his surprise. Your praise wasn’t just a one-time thing, wasn’t a way to get him to drop his guard. It had been genuine, entirely sincere. You had truly thought of him as clever, and you still do.

His schemes become less destructive, but more frequent. MK starts sending you out to deal with him, and most of your “skirmishes” end without any true damage. The two of you talk tech, and then he “tactically retreats” from the fight. Eventually, he drops the act, just swinging by the noodle store to talk with you about mechs or vehicles or rare components and where to find them at reasonable prices.

It’s a strange sight for everyone, the two of you amicably chatting. Sometimes someone will try to butt in, usually MK, who tries to keep up with your conversations to no avail. Other times it’ll be Pigsy, making sure that one of his employees isn’t being threatened or endangered. If one of his new mechs has a Journey to the West inspiration, Tang will happily chime in on it.

But most often, it’s only the two of you, happily talking as equals. Not enemies. Not rivals. Just… actual friends, somehow.

Even if it meant fighting to defend them, these are the sorts of moments he doesn’t want to lose. He wants to protect these cherished hours he spends with you, sharing noodles and blueprints in the middle of a crowded but welcoming restaurant.

Even if it meant fighting a foe he had no chance of defeating. All he has to do is buy a little bit of time. Just enough for MK and his ragtag team of idiots and peasants to smash this osseous demon into pieces. He glares up at her, his hair and hands exploding into flame. It’s a mere display, a small threat to keep her occupied. If she focuses on him, then she can’t hurt you.

Not that she’s trying.

“Foolish child. Do you really think I can’t understand the game that you’re trying to play? You would stand in the way of a peaceful world, all in the name of protecting the heir of your enemy?”

He falls to the ground, clutching his head in pain as she taps into his mind to deliver her next words.

“But a meager resistance cannot hope to undo destiny. I will find Y/N, and add their power to my own. That is their destiny, and I will see it fulfilled.”

“You- you won’t! I wont allow it, you… you PEASANT! You can’t hope to beat all of us! The Demon Bull Family, Sun Wukong and his successor, and the Six-Eared Macaque! All of us will stand against you! If we stand together, there is no threat that can overcome us!”

It’s a little funny, almost. Once, he would’ve scoffed and mocked another for saying such a thing. They sound silly on his tongue, cheesy and overblown. It’s something more suited to MK and his band of goons, speeches of friendship and overcoming adversities together. But it’s true.

And her defeat is testament to the strength that loves brings.

He thinks he loves you. You’re what he imagines having a little sibling is like. He wonders if you could love yourself, if you knew the truth of your heritage. Maybe you could. Maybe you’d fall apart and refuse to trust yourself ever again.

He chats idly with MK as you rest your head on his lap. It brings a strange peace to his heart. You look almost happy, in spite of the bruises and cuts. You look happy, which is proof that you didn’t hear a word that the Lady Bone Demon said about your blood ties.

He doesn’t want to rob you of that happiness so quickly, not when you fought and bled for it.

He absentmindedly strokes your head, thinking of how he’d roast anyone who might try to harm so much as a single hair on it. He can’t let anyone hurt you. Not even himself.

So he keeps quiet, and prays that all will turn out well.

[bonzos-number-1-fan]

What R# Means: The ABC's of Fear.

The grading system used by the OIAR is one of TMAGP's more central mysteries. The show is rife with administrative work that's obfuscated even to the employees that assign each case's rating.

I have my own theory about DPHW that I think is proving more and more likely each episode, but as of yet I don't think a comprehensive theory on CAT# or R# has been given. CAT# is still proving a hard to crack but I now think I can take a strong stab at the meaning behind R#.

Spoilers for TMAGP 1-7 below the cut.

For the people who aren't keeping close track of this I'll break down how those terms are used. Each incident the OIAR assesses is assigned a case number in the following format CAT#R#DPHW. CAT, short for Category, is assigned a value of 1, 2, 3, or any combination of those three digits (12, 13, etc.). R, short for Rank, are graded C, BC, B, AB, A, or S (potentially AS but it's not come up). For DPHW each letter is a category itself and replaced with a digit from 0-9 for its grading. So there are 6 separate statistics that the OIAR uses to assess each incident.

If I'm correct about DPHW it's a ranking based on the qualities the incident presents. That's obviously very valuable information. Because of how CAT# is formatted we know it's likely three non-mutually exclusive facets. I had some idea about what it could be but it's proving quite tricky to nail down.

However it's R# that is the topic of today's post and it's something I've had a few ideas on before. We know can assume from its formatting it's a linear scale. C is the "worst/weakest/etc." while S is the "best/strongest/etc.". Initially, I thought that R# was simply a straight forward ranking of potency or threat. Higher the rank, spookier the incident. Very early on that seemed like a strong idea. It was quickly disproven but I then had the idea that Rank was instead the scale of the effect. Higher the rank, wider the incident. Also quickly disproven.

Now I'm thinking it's graded on how hard it is to deny an incident's supernatural nature. Simply put, an outside observer can more readily find a believable rational explanation for an incident of lower rank than of higher rank. Either via their own conviction to believe the supernatural isn't real, or based on the story the OIAR cooks up to explain it.

For that to make sense it needs to tick two boxes. It needs to be able to be pre-assigned to an incident as all CAT#R#DPHW's seem to be, and it needs to be useful information to track. As they're operating under the assumption that CAT#R#DPHW's can be pre-assigned then they're operating under the assumption that each type of incident is relatively stable. Meaning that the likelihood that it can be rationally explained is also relatively stable. Tick 1. There is also a really strong reason for the OIAR to use this as a grade. They're the Office of Incident Assessment and Response, the Response Department might be dead but it was a part of the initial plan. Grading each incident on how likely they are to cause concern should the details go public is very useful for deciding how to approach any given case. Tick 2.

It being useful is all well and good but it does also need to have some evidence so let's look at our highest ranked incident to this point: CAT23RAB2155 - Transformation (Eye) -/- Trespass. A man grew eyes over his body. That's pretty tricky to explain away as a medical mystery. On the other end of the scale we've got CAT2RC1157 - Dolls (Watching), or CAT2RC3338 -Agglomeration (Miscellany) -/- Congregation†. Just a creepy doll and some crappy antiques. I think of all the incidents the one that's the least immediate fit is CAT3C7494 - Collection (Blood) -/- Musical. Most of that incident is very easy to slot in here. "It's just a violin that has sharp strings, so what?". But it's also a violin that made some people eat some other people. However, mass hysteria events do get reported every so often IRL and do have a very long history. So in the grand scheme of things I don't think the details of the event are necessarily all that outlandish. It's really in the realms of urban legend and witch hunts than it is definitive proof of the supernatural.

With all that out the way this is the broad strokes of how I could see this breaking down. C ranks are things you can entirely write off as urban legends, freak accidents, and stress. Potentially things that might not need any covering up at all. I think the majority of events people could entirely say didn't happen will end up in C. "Of course the doll wasn't watching you, dolls aren't alive". B ranks are things that are harder to entirely discount as things that happened but are themselves still relatively easy to excuse as mundane. "Sure, the circumstances of that blogger's disappearance are strange but people go missing all the time, doesn't mean a monster did it". We don't have any A ranks but given the AB rank we do have I'd say A's are things in which no rational explanation can account for it, and as such require more extensive covering up, if it indeed happened. "Okay, maybe the supernatural is real because people don't just grow eyes like that".

As I mentioned early, an S rank does exist. We've not seen this attributed to anything in the show yet and so it might prove to be a special case. However on Klaus' sheet‡ from the ARG it's attributed to an interesting incident. A CAT1RS[No DPHW] with the note Mr. B. And, well, if you know, you know.

From Klaus' sheet we also know that the higher ranked incidents happen less often than lower ones and that idea generally tracks with what we know of TMP and TMA. The supernatural tends to be something you can explain away. It often is explained away. Incredibly overt manifestations are a rarity.

This one will be a slow burn to see if it bears out. Much like with DPHW's it's only really interesting when things go against the theory. I'm not as certain on this one as I am the DPHW theory but I do think it's got legs with our current data.

† This did also feature people who seemed to erase their physical features from your memory after you interacted with them. This isn't something I mention in the theory because it's not taken into account by the header and case number. A major flaw in the OIAR's methodology here is that all incidents are only ever one thing. So the case number is based solely on the presence of lots of miscellaneous objects, rather than the mind-wiping people carrying them.

‡I have made an incident master doc here, containing all the current cases, their CAT#'s, R#'s, DPHW's, etc. It has about as much information on each as I think is reasonable, including who narrates it, a link to its episode, and any other relevant notes, as well as headers for incidents we didn't hear. Additionally it also contains the Klaus sheet (German and English) and links to it when an incident matches. It will be updated each episode after the episode is publicly available.

[lassify]

Psychological & Psycho-Educational Concepts in 'Inside-Out 2'

(I know, this is basically coming out of nowhere. I do humbly apologise 😂)

I am such a huge fan of the Inside-Out movies, and I was so excited to go and see the sequel in cinemas – and I have to say, it did not disappoint. The writers and the creators REALLY did their research, which showed up so clearly in so many exciting ways.

If you will indulge me, I would love a moment of your time to bring attention to each of the psychological and psychoeducational concepts alluded to, referred to, and discussed in Inside Out 2:

Emotional messages 

Something that the first film did perfectly, was introducing the idea that every emotion exists to communicate a message. Emotions are quite literally messages from the brain, giving us information about the environment and situations around us: 

The above are some of the more important emotions when it comes to survival, but I suspect that Ennui was added for comedy (they were a great addition, in fairness!), and Envy was added to remind the viewer of a key part of the teenage experience; the importance of fitting in, and belonging to a ‘tribe’. 

From an evolutionary perspective, it is extremely important for all humans to be part of a ‘tribe’. Banding together led to the best chances of survival; from protecting each other from predatory tigers (and other tribes), to sharing resources and food with each other. 

Therefore, we have developed emotions like Shame/Embarrassment and Envy to help motivate us to remain part of the tribe. At the core, all our brain wants is for us to survive.

Fear vs Anxiety 

When the second film was announced, along with the character Anxiety, I admit that I initially offered criticism of this, based on the fact that anxiety is very much a subset of fear.  

But Anxiety perfectly explained that Fear appears based on the things that can be seen, whereas Anxiety is the fear of things that can’t be seen. 

Anxiety was very convincing in her justification that she “plans for the future”, convincing both the characters and the audience that she really did know better for Riley, when actually, we have to remind ourselves that while our brains can be good at coming up with potential scenarios to prepare for, our thoughts are not facts.  

Let me say that again: thoughts are not facts. 

This was brilliant to see on screen, because anxiety can almost make us feel like we are predicting the future, when in fact, our brains may be ‘catastrophising’. Inside Out did a great job of showing us catastrophising in action, when it showed Anxiety putting a lot of mind-workers to the task of thinking up dozens of worst case scenarios. She justified it by saying that she wanted Riley to be ‘prepared’ and ‘happy’, but Joy herself knew that it was harmful because it stopped Riley from getting any sleep!  

Window of Tolerance 

This is concept is very widely used in Emotional Literacy 101, so I won’t give a full explanation of this, because it can get long and confusing, but you can watch a brilliant video explanation here.

In short, the “Window of Tolerance” is a psychoeducation term to describe the internal ‘window’ in which we can tolerate uncomfortable emotions and sensations. This window is sometimes also known as the ‘Green zone’, where we can think rationally, react calmly, and make decisions. (Note: It does not necessarily mean that being in the Green Zone makes us happy or calm, just that we can tolerate our more unpleasant emotions.) 

If a situation is too uncomfortable or distressing, this can take us outside of our Window of Tolerance, and we will automatically either be in ‘Fight or Flight’ (what psychologists would call the ‘Red Zone’) or ‘Freeze’ mode (otherwise known as ‘Blue Zone’). 

When the builders moved into Riley’s mind and updated the console, this very much narrowed Riley’s Window of Tolerance, which meant that it was harder for her to tolerate her emotions: A button pressed by Anger turned into instant rage. Sadness accidentally activated a state of despair. And Disgust turned into actual loathing.  

Although not explicitly named in the film, I loved the allusion to the Window of Tolerance, illustrating just how uncomfortable emotions can become when we reach puberty, and highlighting that every teenager is learning to adjust their Window of Tolerance.  

Helpful vs Unhelpful emotions 

This was such a small mention in the film, but I loved it anyway. Joy tried to reassure the basic emotions about Anxiety’s presence by saying “I know sometimes they can feel unhelpful...”, before noting that she managed to improve her understanding of Sadness.  

When giving psychoeducation about emotion management, we always try to move away from viewing emotions as positive/negative, and more towards helpful/unhelpful, because the truth is that emotions can be more or less helpful depending on the situation and what the message of the emotion is telling us.  

Imagine we are in a dark forest at night – this is when fear would be really helpful! By keeping us alert and on our toes, we can be better prepared for any potential danger. The same can be said for waiting for an interview – a little dose of anxiety can actually help us perform better in stressful situations (look up the Yerkes-Dodson curve).  

An emotion stops being helpful when it starts to cause harm to us, or when it doesn’t match the situation that we are in. For example, going food shopping in the supermarket, when we are suddenly struck with overwhelming anxiety, that stops us from being able to get food. In this situation, it is wholly unhelpful, because it stops us from functioning in a normal way.  

In Inside Out 2, Anxiety became an unhelpful emotion, because she stopped Riley from sleeping, from enjoying her favourite hobby, and created a panic attack.

Beliefs 

This concept is popularly used in Cognitive Behavioural Therapy: Whether they are aware of it or not, everybody has subjective beliefs about themselves, the world, and other people around them, and these beliefs would have been entirely formed by experience and development. 

For example, a child who grows up in an environment that is healthy and safe, with parents who are loving and nurturing, will have formed generally positive beliefs about themselves, others, and the world around them: 

I am good. I am strong. I am worthy. I am loveable. 

Others are good natured. Others can help me. Others are trustworthy. 

The world is a good and fair place.  

These form part of our core beliefs. 

In contrast, when a child grows up in an unstable environment, doesn't often get their needs met, and their parents are inconsistent and unreliable, their core belief system will adapt to integrate these beliefs into their understanding of the world. This is also the case for children who grow up in abusive environments, whose parents may even be overtly harmful or destructive, and this will creative adaptive beliefs: 

I am bad. I am weak. I am unworthy. I am unlovable. 

Others can’t be trusted or relied on. Others can hurt me.  

The world is unjust and unfair, and isn’t a safe place. 

(Image is from Beck's Cognitive Triad)

Joy took Sadness and the viewers on a journey to the Core Belief system, and even showed a few examples of Riley’s positive self-concept (“I am a good person”).  

However, when Anxiety flooded the Core Belief system with hand-picked memories from Riley’s more anxious moments, Riley’s core belief system adapted, and created a new core belief: “I’m not good enough.”  

In Riley’s case, she does have strong attachments with her parents, and with her friends, but in that time frame where her strong attachment to her friends was threatened, even Riley was susceptible to developing negative self-beliefs.  

I personally loved this touch, because it really just goes to show how complex and multi-faceted human beings are. There are no people who are just ‘positive’ or just ‘negative’, but instead we all have a mix of core beliefs working together to create our sense of self.  

Attachment 

I touched on this briefly when talking about Core Beliefs, but attachment theory is an important framework to understand child development and human interpersonal relationships. Overall it’s a huge topic and I won’t go into too much detail on it (you can read more here), but in both Inside Out films, it is very clear that Riley has a strong and secure attachment to her parents - as evidenced by her resilient and positive self-concept.

I enjoyed that even though Riley demonstrates a secure attachment style (you can read about the different styles here), she is still susceptible to negative core beliefs: this is reflective of how humans are, that nobody is perfect, no parenting style is immune to outside influence, and it is still possible to carry both positive and negative self-concepts no matter what style of attachment we may have. 

However, I will emphasise that secure attachment by itself is also a protective factor for developing a healthy self-concept.

Psychology jokes 

Just for fun, because I like it and/or they made me laugh:

Emotional baggage: Anxiety arrived to headquarters carrying mountains of suitcases.

Bottling up emotions: When Anxiety literally puts Joy, Anger, Sadness, Disgust and Fear into a bottle to repress them. 

Brain Storm: self-explanatory, and oh so fun.

Sar-chasm: self-explanatory, and comedic genius. 

Overall I really enjoyed both the Inside Out films, but Inside Out 2 is a masterpiece of bringing psychological concepts to the everyday audience. It’s so clear how much love and work they put into the film. It made me cry -  and to me, that’s equivalent to a 10/10 rating.

Anyway, that's all from me. Go and watch Inside Out 2. 🥰💖 You won't regret it!

[theunchainedmelody]

Subjugator of Worlds- A "My Adventures with Superman" one shot about Kara & Jimmy

Rating: T for Teen Pairing: Kara/Jimmy I conquered planets, me and my father. Razed worlds that opposed us all for the glory of the Kryptonian empire. Even as my heart ached for my victims, as I grinned as I tore apart planetary champions, even as my father was forced to subdue the emotions within me that occasionally flared up… Even then I did not stop.

But then I came to this world. This backwater planet should not fascinate me as it does. And I find myself staring at towering skyscrapers unmarred by our weaponry, upon a civilization living a peaceful existence… It all captivates me so… None moreso than one of the first humans I came across on a city street. A man named Jimmy Flamebird. Seeing him, I wondered if all Earthling males were so enamoring to the eyes, but perhaps it no longer matters. He rescued me, not knowing I was the enemy, the conqueror. That his planet was doomed for I was the arbiter of its very subjugation.

Even so, I find myself wishing to hold back around him, to let him do with me as he pleases. He takes me to such amazing places to taste food I had not imagined, flavors far surpassing the bland military rations my father offers to sustain me. I’m falling in love with this planet, and that scares me in a way that taking on a battleship with naught but my battle armor ever could. I’ve felled such warships singlehandedly without a scratch but if Jimmy were to be hurt, I think I would crumble. I fear nothing on this planet more than him, my greatest temptation luring me into complacency. And worst of all, I don’t resist a single request of his nor do I wish to.

I came here to find someone, to find the one man in the universe who can understand me, and yet, I’m so easily being led astray. Curse these emotions, these wants, unbefitting of a warrior of Krypton.

Sexless.

Genderless.

Bred for war.

That’s what I am.

But around Jimmy I’ve never felt like more of a woman. He’s so handsome and so sweet. I feel bodily desires emerging I could never bring up in Father’s presence. I suspect Jimmy is not truly the planetary leader he claimed to be nor that we are drawing any closer to seeing my cousin. And yet I do not want the sun to set on this perfect day.

I’ve never had a perfect day.

All days in space bleed together.

I find myself silently apologizing to my father for my betrayal, for my hesitation, promising myself I’ll bring this planet to its knees to rectify this wrong. And yet, for that same reason, I hope Father stays away a little longer.

I need to find the person that will comprehend my loneliness, my might, my heritage…

But when I find him, Kal-el is not the warrior I had hope he’d be. At the time, I found myself overstimulated by noises and violence around me from some public mockery. Why would one as great as he subject themselves to this? I’d take the familiar ringing of ballistic missiles in my ears over this chaos. I do not wish to hurt these people, but my mind is telling me to silence the threat. Agitation creeps up my spine. That’s when I see my cousin clearly, and I feel so odd. Am I nervous?  Nervous like when Jimmy had so chivalrously cleaned that delicious ice cream from my cheek? I need Kal-El to give me something Father won’t, some wisdom… some guidance… an answer to the cold loneliness of conquest and deep space. Only to him, I’m part of the mockery of this world and he brushes past me without a second thought. No, to him, I’m somehow of less importance than the earthling woman I’d seen kissing his cheek. How disgusting, such fraternization with a lowly being.

And so, in my rage, I chastise him. And Father sends me upon him like a mad dog. I’ve always been his dignified lieutenant on the verge of conquest, but in truth, a mad dog off her leash is what I become in battle. It always feels good, and afterwards, leaves me shivering in fear of my own reflection. I see the people of this world trembling at my tyranny, and I know that as always, this is my fault. Father calms my emotions, and the next minute becomes a blur, but afterwards, it’s still me doing these things. Hurting Kal-El. Needing to hurt him. Needing to rescue him so that he can be where he belongs. With his own kind. With me. For a moment, my thoughts turn to Jimmy Flamebird, who I abandoned back in a burning city. I steel away the weakness that wishes to seek him out. And yet I wonder if the man has come to resent me for what I am and what I will do to his world.

I am Kara Zor-El of Krypton. And this is what I am and always will be. A monster. And I will never be free of me.

Notes: Please note this was written after episode 5 aired so episode 6 and beyond might contradict a lot of details I've assumed about Kara's lore and personality.

[biblioflyer]

X-Men: Trust is Cheap When You Have a Trust Fund

Personal experiences can bestow a fundamentally sunny disposition about Mutant assimilation in Human society. They can also inspire the bleakest despair and a level of skepticism about unilateral disarmament.

Previously I discussed why X-Men as a setting is fundamentally pessimistic as a necessity according to the creative choices made. It is an essay in 5 parts:

1,2,3,4,5

This is a new series analyzing how experience and social status influences Mutant outlooks on the assimilation vs separatism/supremacy question.

It should not surprise us at all that the Morlocks and Magneto have very different opinions from Xavier about who should regulate their behavior and how. Once he’s confronted with how little protection his wealth affords him, even Sunspot becomes a convert to Magneto’s way of thinking.

When you’ve had a bad experience with someone claiming to be on your side and then contradicting literally every value you thought you shared, it makes a person calloused against appeals to a shared set of values or the innate goodness of humanity. 

For a real life example, George Orwell’s “Animal Farm” is a repudiation of the Soviet Union under Stalin, even though Orwell was no fan of extreme inequality and the violence used by elites to protect that inequality in market driven societies. Orwell was motivated to revisit the idea of whether the USSR was a true reflection of his values due to his personal sense of betrayal when the Soviet Union declined to intervene in the Spanish civil war against the Nazi allied regime.

We ought not to be surprised when impoverished visible Mutants find it difficult to imagine having a seat at the table when they can’t even get a seat at the table masquerading as Sapiens. 

Xavier’s access to power is always depicted as somewhat tenuous and his relationships with Presidents are transactional. Regardless of their personal feelings and long term visions, the leaders Charles interacts with are primarily focused on day to day crisis management. These leaders are ultimately accountable to the overwhelming majority of the population that does not have special abilities and those who are fearful of Mutants and those who are supportive of Mutants vote and contribute to political campaigns.

Xavier isn’t even visibly mutated. The tendency for Humans to perceive Morlocks as hideously disfigured denies them any comfort in mainstream society. Their very appearance reminds Humans that something has gone amiss in the gene pool and that something may not bode well for baselines in the long run.

Magneto’s experiences as a Sapien minority on the wrong side of the boot has made him deeply skeptical of power beyond his own. A Holocaust survivor, Magneto doesn’t need to imagine what the worst case scenario is for Human - Mutant relations.

Like Orwell, he is not easily swayed by appeals to common values or shared interest. For Magneto, trust is earned and the tests to earn it are not easy. As a consequence of his experiences, Magneto has adopted an attitude that only the people that are imminently facing the same type of threats can truly understand each other and be relied upon. 

To the extent that this is a fair and accurate sentiment, taken to an extreme it can be very isolating and leave one with few allies and even fewer people whose insights might be trusted when they contradict Magneto’s own instincts. This becomes a serious problem when Cortez worms his way into Magneto’s inner circle or Magneto rationalizes the fate of Mutants trapped on an Earth incapable of using modern technology as expediting evolution.

Yet, cynic that he is, life as an island is hard and even Magneto is not immune to the occasional savvy operator figuring out how to earn and abuse his trust, like Cortez.

Next up: Power level as privilege. What happens when a cranky Omega isn’t trapped in here with you, you are trapped with them….

[rist-ix]

So, I was thinking about that, in chapter 16 tbhtbhs, the chapter bloom runs away, she didn’t kill valtor because she’s kind feel something for him, or because she thought she has no chance?

Hahaha HA, tumblr user supremevaltor, you have fallen right into my trap! For you see, now I have an opening to prepare my favorite attack: analyzing my own fic!

If we jump a few paragraphs back in the very same chapter, we get to see Bloom have an existential crisis over the fact that she COULD convince herself she feels SOMETHING for Valtor, if she tried.

And this vaguest tiniest confession of not-hatred (to herself, mind you, not even to Darcy, who’s witnessing All That) has her absolutely spiraling to the point it’s physically and visibly affecting her.

By the time she gets to the library she has mostly recovered from that realization, and by recovered I mean she’s buried that shit and is politely refusing to look at it.

Now, fast forward to the library. Valtor, for the first time in almost four years, has been completely and utterly honest, is drunk and in a uniquely vulnerable position, and does not demand honesty from Bloom (which she’s struggling with) but a comforting lie (which she’s bad at, but shouldn’t be opposed to).

Betraying him at this point instead of besting him in combat does not feel good for Bloom, but she can rationalize that away pretty easily.

Now though. Now she has a problem.

For ensuring her long-term freedom and the overall safety of the dimension, she should definitely kill him here. Valtor says as much, she will never get a better chance.

Here’s where it gets complicated.

What you mentioned definitely plays a role here: she doubts her chances of success. Valtor has blindsided and overwhelmed her by feigning weakness in the past, every battle so far has gone in his favor, he always has an ace up his sleeve and so on. He’s also - desperately - trying to goad her into attacking, which to him is a way to keep her here until the handcuffs’ spell runs out, and to Bloom seems highly suspicious.

But to attempt to kill him now would also mean to be confronted with the loss of him. Which would mean reopening that Pandora’s box of “What do I feel for him”. And Bloom, due to her feeling of immense guilt and debt to her friends, cannot acknowledge that her hatred for him has softer impurities. If Valtor died, she would not only physically feel the loss of their connection, she would never hear his voice again. She prides herself on being able to predict what he’ll say sometimes, to interpret and understand him in a way no one else can. That would end, immediately.

If he died, she would lose someone whose company she’s grown so used to and familiar with. Someone - maybe the only one! - she has no fear of disappointing, who has unwavering faith in her and who she CANNOT hurt emotionally no matter how angry and violent and bitter she gets. (Because a) he definitely always deserves it, and b) he enjoys fighting verbally almost as much as he enjoys fighting physically. He already knows all the worst impulses of her, and he’s never disapproved.)

It’s a comforting thing to know and be known so fully. Losing that would be daunting, no matter the nature of their relationship.

There’s a reason I chose the library as the setting for this encounter btw. And that’s that libraries are sexy. But also, the book they read the night before is still on that table, page marked. Bloom looks at it very briefly before she runs.

Not only did they have a pleasant time and a very emotionally honest conversation here, Valtor has also surprised her. There’s a point after he realizes Bloom can’t read Domino’s language where he apologizes, and cuts himself off when he starts to look for a scapegoat. (It was Faragonda. He always blames Faragonda.)

Bloom doesn’t know that last part, but it still stood out to her that he stopped talking mid-sentence. (Valtor!!!!! Stopped talking!!!!!)

It’s a short glimpse of a Valtor who does not prioritize control of the situation over Bloom’s feelings, and allows (forces) himself to not make this a power struggle, but a moment of understanding, and connection.

(The page is marked! Symbolizing clear intent to continue! They can go back to it whenever they want, and revisit that genuine and sincere part of their relationship! Bloom looks at it and runs!)

To kill him here, face to face with what he already is to her and who he could be, is not something Bloom can stomach. And this is a Bloom who has killed better people for less, when it meant the immediate safety of her friends.

If Valtor paused long enough to examine that, which I’m undecided on whether he has, he might feel a lot better about that day.

Alas, he goes apeshit.

[casanovawrites]

FROM season 2 sentence starters (part 2)

we can’t have new people stealing what little food we have.

you fucking stabbed me!

they probably all think you’ve gone crazy.

you’re talking to a figment of your imagination. but hey, sometimes crazy is the most rational response you could have.

you tried. not every story gets a happy ending.

it’s real, and i’m fucking terrified.

you’re okay. you’re okay. look at me.

i’m not really good with blood.

i can feel them. even if i can’t see them, i can feel them.

you wanna play games? i’m right here. i’m ready.

i told my mom and dad i wasn’t scared. but i am.

i’m a little scared, too. but guess what? that’s a good thing.

fear is something that lives inside us, just like hope or joy or love. they’re all things that make us special. but fear might be the most important one of all because without fear, we wouldn’t know how to be brave. fear is what makes us heroes.

i should’ve listened to you. i should’ve trusted you.

you’re about to willingly bring something evil into your home.

i know you want all this to make sense, i know you want there to be a rational explanation. 

what’s the point of being friends if we can’t BE friends?

you’re shivering. here. 

it’s dead. how is it going to hurt us?

all i do here is put broken things back together. 

yeah, i’m scared. i’m fucking terrified. that’s why i need you in there with me. i can’t do this without you.

we’re in this together, remember? you and me.

i love you. and all i want is for you to be happy. but i can’t watch you do something that might get you killed.

what if this place is trying to torture me, mock me?

we have seen a lot of horrible, impossible shit here. we just assume anything impossible that happens here is bad.

you met the love of your life in the middle of your worst fucking nightmare.

a miracle is just the other side of a nightmare.

you’re not being punished. maybe this is just a scary place where fucked up shit happens, and there’s no explanation why.

when things change here, it’s usually bad.

this was our chance. it couldn’t have been for nothing.

this place, it’s like as soon as you start to think, ‘you know, maybe today i won’t go insane,’ something new comes along, and it’s like, ‘hey, wait ’til you see this!’

i’ve just accepted that i’m never going to be comfortable again.

i’m gonna be all right, you know? you don’t have to worry about me.

what if the answers are out there, we just didn’t go out far enough?

there’s no place for me here. no one even wants me here.

there’s a difference between going out there and running away from here.

is it just physically impossible for you not to be an asshole for 10 minutes?

what this place did to you, it isn’t fair.

people shouldn’t go looking for answers. they don’t come back.

bad things happen here no matter what.

i’m afraid to remember.

i got so used to being scared, it just felt normal.

are you honestly saying that our fucking dreams can hurt us now?

things here feel different now. they feel wrong.

this place feeds on our pain. but what if it does more than that? 

i’m not planning on dying here tonight.

i’m not going to lose another person to ‘probably.’

i’m not listening to this shit all fucking night, okay?

everything is a story, and we’re the ones who decide how it ends.

i know it’s painful for you, seeing me every day.

i know what i’ve done. i’ll never be able to take it back. i ruined people’s lives.

i didn’t ask for any of this. 

you think you’re the only one who lost something? i’ve lost everything. 

everything i was, and everything i could have been, is gone.

this place destroyed the only person i ever get to be, and i’m tired. i’m tired of being afraid, and i’m tired of being ashamed. 

i don’t want to be here anymore. i don’t want to be your monster anymore. i just want it to be over.

it’s like trying to imagine a jigsaw puzzle without all the pieces.

we can’t just sit here hoping for the best. 

i don’t need a fucking reminder of what’s at stake.

why do people ask if i’m okay, when the answer’s obvious?

let’s get married. today. we have no idea what’s going to happen.

if this is the end, then i want it to end with you.

how far are you willing to go to find answers?

you know what, motherfucker? i’m not here to pray. 

all i am is a dumb motherfucker who keeps getting people killed.

is this how it ends?

i actually allowed myself to believe that there was a plan to all of this. that there was something we were meant to do here. 

we’re all going to die here, and all of this would’ve been for nothing.

did i say give up? this might be the last few hours any of us get. 

life is a journey through the unknown. though your eyes and mind sometimes deceive you, your heart will never lie.

my heart’s belonged to you since the moment i met you. you’re the love of my life, for as long as that life may last.

there has been so many times here when i felt like i was stumbling in the dark. but each and every time, you were the light that guided me through.

you are my love. you are my home. you are my light in dark places. 

they’re all going to die screaming.

hope is what makes you willing to suffer. 

it’s not your fear that feeds the forest. it’s hope.

[irkimatsu]

🍋‍🟩🍈🥒

All greens! The fact that the phobia one has a cucumber as its emoji is really funny for Husk in particular because, well, cat.

- ⭐ blue-dream-boye

Oh god I didn't even notice the cucumber, that's fucking hilarious

🍋‍🟩 - is your f/o superstitious? is there any habits they follow or quirks they have to follow said superstitions? like not opening umbrellas indoors to avoid back luck?

Absolutely superstitious - when you're a gambler, you'll cling to any ritual you can find in order to turn your luck in your favor. But how much does he truly believe it anymore? Perhaps it was something he held closer as a younger man. But even as he "grew out" of it he'd still keep lucky charms and do private rituals out of habit. And, you know. Just in case. It can't hurt.

Fuck, I've got to turn everything to angst - a desperate Overlord toward the end of his reign, wasting what little money he has left on advertised lucky charms knowing damn well it's a scam, but he needs this luck, so maybe it's worth the investment, maybe, maybe...

But on the other hand, I can also see Overlord Husk selling fake charms. Buy this expensive hunk of gold and you, too, can be a winner like the Gambling Overlord! His sales pitch is so charming that even more wary customers can't help but give his trinkets a second look...

🍈 - does your f/o believe in fate? do they thing everything is preplanned out by the universe or a higher power, or do they think that the idea of fate is bogus? why?

You know, I've thought about this one even before this ask game, and the best I can come up with is "it's complicated". Especially in his position; how many times can you try to turn your life around, only to fail? Does that make your failure, your fate? A higher power obviously exists in this canon, but I think even while alive Husk decided that if said higher power has any influence on human lives then said higher power is a fucking prick. He's not going to act like he's not in charge of his own life; he made the choice to gamble and scam his life away, and he believes he's in the exact afterlife he belongs. But was it fate that cursed him with his addictive personality and thrust him into the worst possible environment for it? Would his life had been different if he'd been born somewhere far away from the casinos and nightlife, or if he had the strength to say no to it all?

It's no use laying awake and worrying about it. He made his mistakes, he's here now, all he can to is own it.

🥒 - what's your f/o afraid of? do they have any phobias? anything minor they're scared of?

I don't know if he has anything I'd call a "phobia", since I'd say his fears are quite rational given what he's been through. A fear of losing control is a big one; all of his worst mistakes tend to happen while drunk or for the sake of a game he can't break away from. It makes being Alastor's puppet all the more traumatic, I imagine. It's also part of his physical boundaries; he hates being groped at like a fucking zoo animal. Grant him his autonomy, damn it. Being turned into an animal that people seem to struggle to see as an independent human is another way he's lost his agency. Though that last part is more of a dislike than an actual fear; he wasn't afraid of Angel getting in his space, he just wanted him to get out.

I think before I can decide on more fears or phobias for him, I need to know more about his history and exactly what makes him tick...

@blue-dream-boye

[warabola]

Top 5 lore areas of interest?

Oh no this is actually so hard to narrow down. Oh man. How do I even start to put this succinctly.

If I was going to give a real quick and simple answer, trying to avoid anything too specific or abstract:

TL;DR

Death in the extended setting

The unknowable depths of the zee

The workings and implications of advanced skills (and the professions associated with them)

The impact of prolonged exposure to the Neath, and other non-Sol laws on biology/physiology

The history and politics of devils

(...That's still specific and abstract I'm sorry everyone.)

Longer version ft. incoherent rambling and heavy spoilers to follow:

Death: What the fuck is the far shore. Why can't I get a proper answer. If we're eaten by stars if we die where their light touches and eaten by the God Kings if we die under moonlight then what is the far shore and what is eating us over there. Why does the boatman exist. Why is the greatest shame there under the river and what was it. What are the implications of the rivers connected to Death, including the one through the Waswood? Why is there casually an alternative to death and why is it turning into a moth. Who was the Boatman prior to the Naturalist's arc? i'm going to scream.

The Zee: Alright. Fun warabola lore! I had thalassophobia at one point in time, particularly regarding the really deep seas. But I am nothing if not stubborn, and my response to any irrational fear is to try and rationalize it and confront it face on. It's likely not the best response to forcibly expose myself to the things that cause me distress but I was determined to do so and, well. Do nothing in halves. Hyperfixate on your worst nightmares, play Subnautica with an audience that goads you into going deeper even when you're panicking, learn everything you can, and you too could end up microdosing exposure therapy until your wires cross! Subnautica and Sunless Seas are now some of my favourite games. I'm quite obsessed with every new horrifying thing we discover about the zee. I cannot possibly get enough of it. Old Fitz and the diving bell part of Evolution are some of my favourite recent writing in Fallen London.

Advanced Skills/Professions: You might've seen me rambling about the implications of silverers and crooked crosses recently, but the advanced skills really are fascinating. The specific details and mechanics are especially interesting, be it Glasswork (Mind Palaces, the ability of Parabola to influence the waking world via dreams, the ability to travel through time and space as implied by Caduceus, the effects on a human body if the mirror is broken mid-traversing-) or Kataleptic Toxicology (bottling of the most specific and profound emotions, Station VII, Licentiates' capabilities, the fact that you train it/research it by repeatedly dosing yourself to death sdfsfdd). The mind-map I made regarding the connections between different professions and specializations is like the tip of the ranting iceberg.

The impact of prolonged exposure to the Neath etc etc: Who isn't interested in this. What are tomb colonists and frost moths. Why does that happen. What are the specific details regarding how the sun smites us if we step onto the surface. Why does Yearning, Burning happen. What is the effect of time-anachronism and can it be replicated by humans with the Rose Giveth. Answer me, Failbetter.

Devils: I will be honest, this is less about Hell and more about all the other weirdness and politics going on with them, as well as the history regarding Caduceus and how they're like chefs for the stars and Mount Palmerston and the Brazen Brigade and the Iron Republic and the physiology of Grand Devils and their unique language and how they're.... they're really fancy bees. They are so weird and interesting. Tell me more.